


The Tragic Murders at Westerburg High

by tokidorito



Category: Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Murder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 12:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12168672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tokidorito/pseuds/tokidorito
Summary: In the Fall of 1989, Heather Chandler, Kurt Kelly, and Ram Sweeney were found dead not even weeks after each other. Their murderer was never found and the case hasn't been opened since 2010. In 2017, 28 years after their deaths, Veronica Sawyer's sure their ghosts are haunting her.





	The Tragic Murders at Westerburg High

**Author's Note:**

> Here's an AU I've been thinking of! Very much so Buzzfeed Unsolved inspired. Trigger warnings apply, as it is Heathers.

She didn't know when they started haunting her. 

At first, she thought it was just the stress of midterms getting to her, that these ghosts were just manifestations of her insecurities. When it was clear that wasn't the answer after they continued talking to her weeks after tests were over, Veronica Sawyer thought it was some big acid trip. She hadn't been into drugs since senior year of high school and she especially hadn't tried ecstasy before ( that's what caused hallucinations, wasn't it? ) , but maybe, just maybe, she had taken it without knowing it. 

She found out their names on the anniversary of their deaths.

They were all 17 years old - or at least, they died when they were 17. They went to the same high school she did - Westerburg High, which creeped her out somewhat. The deaths of Heather Chandler, Kurt Kelly, and Ram Sweeney were popular subjects among the teens, rumors spreading about if you went into the girl's bathroom at 2 am, you'd see Heather's ghost, or if you lingered around the wrong locker in the football locker room, Kurt and Ram would yell at you. They were just that, obviously - rumors. 

Could you really blame her for not believing the people that were actually haunting her were the kids that died that month?

She had denied it for a full week before Heather convinced her that it was actually them. Said something like 'ghosts can't change their appearance, dumbass. it's actually us', and Veronica figured that they'd know ghosts better than she did. Plus, it's not like she would actually tell anyone, so there was no harm in believing them. 

It was months now since they first began talking to her. Well, yelling was more the right word. Heather would talk about someone named Heather Duke and complain about a red scrunchie and sometimes, something that looked a lot like drain cleaner would dribble out of her mouth and down her chin. Kurt and Ram mainly made lewd jokes - it was always unnerving looking at them, really. They had bright red holes in their chests that bled through their letterman jackets. Not to mention that they were more obnoxious than Heather, commenting on whatever Veronica did.

It made doing work very hard. 

"VERONICA!" Speak of the devil, there was that familiar high-pitched voice, "do not tell me you're just going to stay at home all day. God, you're such a boring person."

Said brunette groaned, leaning back on her worn couch. It was old and she was pretty sure there were ants inside the cushions, but she was too preoccupied to actually set aside a day for checking it out. Plus, she didn't want to bother Martha about it either. "Sorry I'm not going to parties 24/7, Heather." Voice was wry, hands resting on the keys of the laptop. 

"You should be sorry! How are you gonna maintain ANY sort of social status if you're holed up in your room constantly?" A groan, arms crossing over her robe as a blue liquid dribbles out of her mouth.

"Don't get  _ choked up _ over it, Heather." A laugh as Heather tapped her foot, annoyance obvious in her features. "Sorry, sorry, I know puns about your death make you  _ gag _ ." Ah, yes, humor. Veronica's one go-to for uncomfortable situations she wanted to avoid.

"Haha. Very funny, Veronica." Her tone was dry and apathetic, the former queen of Westerburg rolling her eyes as she approached, leaning on the arm of the sofa. She peered over Veronica's shoulder, raising her eyebrows at the mostly blank page. 

"This is my 5th page, Heather."

"Riiiight. We're going." With a sudden gust of energy, Heather closed the laptop shut, throwing it aside and disregarding the way Veronica yelped in surprise. "Don't be so surprised. It'll leave wrinkles." She pat the other's face briefly, taking her wrist and leading her to the door. "We're going to a party."

"But I don't know any parties that's going on."

"I do. It's 9 pm, which is prime party time. Just follow the music. Don't you know anything?" She scoffed, practically dragging Veronica out the door. "If I wasn't murdered by Trenchcoat Kid, I would've been living up in college, going to all the parties and screwing everyone."

"...Trenchcoat kid? Hang on, what?" Veronica stopped, raising her eyebrows. "You know who murdered you?"

"Of course I know who murdered me. I'm not an idiot, Veronica. I don't have to go all Nancy Drew." Her stance shifted, hand on her waist as she stuck her leg out.

"Well? What was his name? He can still be charged."

Silence.

"He was a freak." Heather scoffed, "no one knew his name. He flew in from some other state. I heard he killed himself."

"...You didn't have anything to do with that, did you?"

"I just gave him a taste of his own medicine. Serves him right for ending my reign early."

"You killed someone, Heather!" Shock was immediate, a hand wrenching away from her grip as she clutched it to her chest.

"Oh, don't act so surprised, Veronica! He killed me first!" A hand raised to point, a perfectly manicured nail jabbing into her chest. "And you're gonna help me out who he was so everyone can know who  _ actually  _ killed me and this whole thing can rest. And I won't have to stick around with you and your boring life anymore."

"I don't even know where to start."

Heather's hand latched onto Veronica's wrist again, dragging her out of the door as the latter yelped. "What about Martha?!"

"Martha Dumptruck can handle a couple days of being by herself." She scoffs, Veronica's eyebrows furrowing.

"Don't call her that. I'll text her." She retrieved her phone out of her pocket, unlocking it before tapping a couple of keys. She got an immediate response, a 'Good luck, Veronica! Have fun visiting your parents!' with a ton of emojis afterwards. Poor, sweet Martha. Something like guilt seeped into her skin and rested in her bones, but the push Heather gave that made her stumble into the bus snapped her out of it.

"...Where are we even going?"

"Heather McNamara. She'll give us more answers."

Veronica knew better than to question.


End file.
